Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me.
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