“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. “I think she would,” she decided. "Here, take this and get the letter and open and read it.
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