‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. “A confusion of motives—that’s what I am!. " But she did not complete the thought aloud. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. . She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before the Lodge at Newgate. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself.
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