Suddenly she understood. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered. You dear, dear girl. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. Stanley being bored and feeling limited. "He who stands on the verge of the grave, as I do, should never be unprepared.
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