Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. ‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. From what do you wish to be rescued?’ The girl fluttered her eyelashes, sighed dramatically and spread her hands.
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