What was the old tabby at? Unaccountably embarrassed, he cleared his throat. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. From the slight sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for the worst. The thought made her exquisitely happy. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive.
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