Kneebone's 346 XIV. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended.
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