A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. ” “It scarcely gives me a chance,” Mr. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone.
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