"But I can guess what it's for. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. Tristan dying and Isolde coming to crown his death. ‘That is better, no?’ ‘Dieu. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. E. ’ Gosse blinked. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment.
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