A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Here again the clothes were minus the labels. She kept her face downcast. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. That’s Italians for you. CHAPTER III. ‘But I have told you.
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