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94
When it Was Dark

seen, before Llwellyn turned it over, a firm, plain signature, thus:

Constantine Schuabe

With some excuse about the heat of the room, he left it and went out into the night.

His brain was busy with terrible intuitive forebodings, he seemed to be caught up in the fringe of some great net, the phantoms of his illness came round him once more, the dark air was thick with their wings — vague, and because of that more hideous.

He passed the lighted kiosk at the Casino entrance with a white, set face.

He was going home to pray.