‘Your mystery lady, I mean. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She was practically destitute of jewellery. He said the place had gone to wrack. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow.
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