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CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew.
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