By-the-bye, do you recognize that?” Anna looked and gasped. Bullding repeated, rather struck with the phrase. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. He had no ideas about daughters.
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