Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. He filled his pipe slowly. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. “I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you.
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