“The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Mac, she's the honestest human being I ever saw or heard of; and at the same time she is velvet over steel. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet.
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