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Sinclair, May, 1863-1946

"The Three Sisters"

"No--No--No!"
But Mary had her knife ready and she drove it home.
"Ally--Ned Langstaff _saw_ you."
* * * * *
When Rowcliffe came back from Upthorne he found Alice cowering in a
corner of the couch and crying out to her tormentors.
"You brutes--you brutes--if Gwenda was here she wouldn't let you bully
me!"
Mary turned to her husband.
"Steven--will you speak to her? She won't tell us anything. We've been
at it more than half an hour."
Rowcliffe stared at her and the Vicar with strong displeasure.
"I should think you had by the look of her. Why can't you leave the
poor child alone?"
At the sound of his voice, the first voice of compassion that had yet
spoken to her, Alice cried to him.
"Steven! Steven! They've been saying awful things to me. Tell them it
isn't true. Tell them you don't believe it."
"There--there----" His voice stuck in his throat.
He put his hand on her shoulder, standing between her and her father.
"Tell them----" She looked up at him with her piteous eyes.
"She's worried to death," said Rowcliffe. "You might have left it for
to-night at any rate."
"We couldn't, Steven, when you've sent for Greatorex. We _must_ get at
the truth before he comes."
Rowcliffe shrugged his shoulders.
"Have you brought him?" said the Vicar.
"No, I haven't. He's in Morfe. I've sent word for him to come on
here."
Alice looked sharply at him.


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