"It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. He has got five minutes' start of you. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. One only. That is the dreadful truth. A slight cough uttered by Jonathan at the moment awakened the echoes of the place, and was returned in hollow reverberations. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans.
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