They had their little dreams about her. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. His tone was kind and sympathetic. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. She could tell it was new territory for him and he might lose the nerve to take them off himself, without the aid of drink.
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