It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. ‘Scream and you are dead,’ he snapped, and released her mouth so that he might open the door.
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