The panel in the bookcase. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. "What did you ring for, Sir?" she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. It isn’t such fun as it seems.
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