Charles spent the afternoon going through a stack of papers at Thornhill Square. It was about five o’clock when he finished with them and went out by the garden way. It was dusk but not yet dark. The alley-way was much darker than the garden. When he had shut and locked the door in the wall, he stood for a moment, and then turned to the right instead of to the left. The impulse which made him do this was so slight and undefined that it took no definite shape in his mind. He turned to the right instead of to the lef…
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