It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. Then she saw him. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. “You were seen to leave the flat, and your handkerchief was found there. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. Mr.
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