Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. " CHAPTER XI. " "There's no hurry. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act. The burden of decision had been transferred. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. “Turned out to be an impostor, too.
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