He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. "But you've done well to trust me. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas.
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