CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. “I don’t know where to go to. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments.
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