In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the benefit of Mrs. ‘Not here. There were two. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. And taking the keys, he departed on the errand. ‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not.
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