A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. " "Would you have had him spare my mother's murderer?" cried Winifred. " "You at least appear to forget that Mr. It was for ever. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above.
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