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In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. What does he do these three days?’ She had come daily to the vestry, hoping to meet the lad and hear his report. “Politics!” Ennison answered grimly. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip.
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