It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. We had no idea. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin.
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