It was bad luck to go to Canongate. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. Wood, however, made known his presence to the individual by laying his hand upon his shoulder. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time.
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