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The will to live had returned. Kneebone's. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. Abruptly would come the end. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. “Will you tell Sydney that I will see him in the morning,” he said. He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. He did not explain what had happened to her. ’ Her face fell.
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