” “I had some unexpected business,” Courtlaw answered shortly. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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