It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. It was horrible.
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