He never finished his sentence. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. On Saturday he went to that there Mr Charvill’s house. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. He begged their attention for the next turn.
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