CHAPTER XXIV. He grunted, and his grip gave. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the floor. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is.
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