"Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. "Clean and spotless, but beginning to show the wear and tear of constant use. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since.
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