What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. They said no more for a moment, and each was now acutely aware of the other. They were suddenly thrown aside, and a man stepped out from his hiding-place. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. “Did it seem like I was in pain to you?” She smirked. . " "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, who had noticed the movement; "make such another attempt, and it shall cost you your life. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal.
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