‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. ‘Do not speak of him. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. “You need not be alarmed,” he said. ” “You came to tell me this?” “I came for you,” he declared fiercely. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections.
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