Mr. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before.
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