That had shut him up for a while. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature. "Breathe at this phial," said Winifred. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. Wood required little pressing.
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