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"Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it.
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