"
The lawyer's palm met his; then they started to go out; but before they
had passed the door, Mr. Ransom came back, and lifting the comb from the
table he put it in his pocket. As he did this, his eye flashed sidewise
on the other. There were strange hints and presentiments in it which
brought the color to the usually imperturbable lawyer's cheek.
In going out they passed the office-door. A dozen men were hanging about,
smoking and talking. Among them was a countryman who had just swallowed,
open-mouthed, the story of the past night's tragedy. He was now speaking
out his own mind concerning it, and this is what these two heard him say
as they went by:
"Do you know what strikes me as mighty strange? That they should clear
that stone of the name of Anitra just in time to put Georgian's in its
place. I call that peculiar, I do."
The lawyer and the husband exchanged a glance.
"Mrs. Ransom had a deep mind," the lawyer remarked, as the door slammed
behind them. "She apparently thought of everything."
Ransom, directing a look down the street towards the factories and the
roaring mill-stream, uttered a shuddering sigh.
"They are still searching," said he. "But they will never find her. They
will never find her."
The lawyer pulled him away.
"That's because they search the water. We will search the land.
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