Montressor’s guests were. ‘It is what my father intended. . Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. You never can tell. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. Taber is the name. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that.
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