He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. ‘That is my mother. It seems that he was a sort of family friend of the Pellissiers, and it was the artist sister whom he was with. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet.
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