” Her breath left her for a moment. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. She wished she had not stood up. "I'll see him fettered myself.
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