At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. A forgotten island beyond the ship lanes, where that grim Hand would falter and move blindly in its search for him! From what he had read, there wouldn't be much to do; and in the idle hours he could write. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak.
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