” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. " "I am almost afraid to utter it," said Kneebone; "but Thames Darrell is murdered. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress. .
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