She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. “Now replace the stone, my child. I could not love you else. He was speechless. She could not speak. “I am sure of it. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously.
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