Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle—Mr. She recalled him. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. To-night we leave for Marseilles.
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