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 he returned at dusk Mrs. Peyton, looking up from the tea-table behind which she awaited him, was startled by the deep-lined misery of his face.

Her own thoughts were too painful for ready expression, and they sat for a while in a mute community of wretchedness.

&quot;Is everything arranged?&quot; she asked at length.

&quot;Yes. Everything.&quot;

&quot;And you have not heard from the aunt?&quot;

He shook his head.

&quot;Can you find no trace of any other relations?&quot;

&quot;None. I went over all his papers. There were very few, and I found no address but the aunt's.&quot; He sat thrown back in his chair, disregarding the cup of tea she had mechanically poured for him. &quot;I found this, though,&quot; he added after a pause,