There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. Her little white hand stole across the table. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. What would he come as? Presently she roused herself with a guilty start from the task of dressing and re-dressing Mr.
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