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12 "Yes, thank you," I answered in a low voice, recovering my self-possession; "but what"

She held up her hand. "S-shh! Please don't talk, Mr. d'Escombe. I want to warn you. Don't come back here, on any account."

She glanced apprehensively at the staircase and continued, "I don't want my father to know that I've seen you, but please, please don't come back. You'll regret it very, very deeply."

And then, as a noise came from somewhere above, she turned, saying, "For your own sake go away, and do not return," and disappeared quickly through a door near; while I, my brain awhirl, let myself quietly out of the hall door.

Once again I found myself in the street, away from the mysterious house and its strange occupants. I walked on utterly dumbfounded. "Don't come back—regret it—" what could she mean, and who was she? Featherson's daughter? He had mentioned a daughter.

Certainly it was a most amazing and curious state of affairs, but one thing I was determined upon. I would go back, and all the more readily if that sweet-faced girl were to be one of the party to go abroad; and besides what