Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. You do not believe his statement?" "I do not," replied Winifred.
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