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The piano-pounding continued and I waited for what

seehted the oil lamps I took a book from the

table It was The Life of Benvenuto Cellini and "Marian

Devereux" ritten on the fly leaf, by uny for

Olivia's perfornature, in their lack of superfluity, her own

ease, grace and charm; and, in the deeper stroke with

which the x was crossed, I felt a challenge, a readiness

to abide by consequences once her as given

Then ered

raphy, and I

dropped the book impatiently when I heard her step

on the threshold

"I a, Mr Glenar I ca why I had come

She took a chair near the open door and bent forward

with an air of attention that was disquieting She

wore black-perhaps to fit her the better into the house

of a somber Sisterhood I seeone, and the effort of uard Stoddard had said there were

several Olivia Ars; there were certainly rew intolerable; she

aiting for me to speak, and I blurted: "I suppose you have coe of the property"

"Do you?" she asked