“You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room, with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and before he could call out to prevent it, a man was admitted into the passage.
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