For a long time neither spoke again. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned.
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