He would have to make sure of her silence. She hated living like that. "A missioner! That illuminates everything. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. ‘I must get a handkerchief.
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