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Let me walk you to the door. . . She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. " "Oh!" exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands.
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