The pistol was lowered slightly. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. "And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. But—he was cleverer than any of you. We shall become a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-defence. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. He returned the locket without comment. Enough to let her find out a piece of information most urgent.
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