” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. Herculis was a port city on the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from where the manor had been. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. To-morrow they will know the truth. That dress is thirty years old, if a day. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. ” “But how?” He was, she thought, a little too insistent.
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