“Please come home. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. O'Higgins followed him into the dining room. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms.
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