She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest.
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