Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. One is always familiar with the business of one’s neighbours. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall.
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