The future? He dared not speculate upon that. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. Meysey Hill—never your wife. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence.
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