He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. “It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. "It's all up, master," groaned Ben, "nothin' short of a merracle can save us. She felt this was the sensible way out of this oddly sinister situation. Your uncle—our uncle is with him.
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