’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks. She bent down. She expanded that. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self.
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