“Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. He hated horizons. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered.
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