There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. . She pushed the former and it opened. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works unless you comply with paragraph 1. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table.
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