’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. ” Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. ‘I allow anyone in. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's.
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