Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. "I'll make a sketch, too," he said. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. Then she saw him. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father.
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