” “I am going to ask more than a favour,” she said slowly. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. His food lay untouched about his plate. ‘I have justice.
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