’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. She crept out of the shadows. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. And, turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppard's glance fixed meaningly upon him. ” “Yes, I believe that was the name. Never sent for the shirt. That was the true marvel of it.
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