Michelle walked towards the sloping Victorian stairs. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. “My husband knows all. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard.
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