She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. E. The G. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty.
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