“Everything very nice, I am sure,” Miss Stanley murmured to Capes as he steered her to a place upon the little sofa before the fire. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. “I am sorry. Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears—oh!" "If that's the case," observed Wood, "I'm surprised you should like to have such a frightful picture constantly in view as that over the chimney-piece.
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