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In the hall everything was hard and polished--even the red cheeks of the moon face on the tall clock in the corner had a severe varnished look.
There was a heap of old feathery wood-ashes on the hearth.
Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock Holmes with the utmost amazement upon his features.
"I may not wed the man who slays my husband, even in self-defense.