But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face.
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