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Dead Men Tell No Tales | E. W. Hornung | |
Chapter XIX My Great Hour |
Page 3 of 8 |
I had been so long, however, that her patience was exhausted, and as I returned to the library by one door, she entered by the other. "I could bear it no longer. Tell me - the worst!" "Three of them are dead." "Which three?" She had crossed to the other door, and would not have me shut it. So I stood between her and the hearth, on which lay the captain's corpse, with the hearthrug turned up on either side to cover it. "Harris for one," said I. "Outside lie Jose and - " "Quick! Quick!" "Senhor Santos." Her face was as though the name meant nothing to her. "And Mr. Rattray?" she cried. "And Mr. Rattray -" "Has escaped for the present. He seems to have cut his way through the police and got over the wall by a ladder they left behind them. They are scouring the country - Miss Denison! Eva! My poor love!" |
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Dead Men Tell No Tales E. W. Hornung |
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