" "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. There you will be, in an inner temple. Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears—oh!" "If that's the case," observed Wood, "I'm surprised you should like to have such a frightful picture constantly in view as that over the chimney-piece. For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another.
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