“Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. Wood required little pressing. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer.
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