The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Hope reared. ” She turned herself to one side and propped her head in her hand.
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