"My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound.
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