There was nothing to be learned from her face. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Death belongs to God, young man. She pulled him towards the bed. He took the first step toward the stairs, and met the restraining hand of McClintock. The truth at once flashed across his mind. Jolly nice girl, too. She ought to have leapt back on guard.
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