“Julian! I was worried that. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. “Oh, you know,” she said. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off.
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