Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. That dress is thirty years old, if a day. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. Once more he was the searcher. Open it. But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features.
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