’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again. “It’s—private. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. The whole place had come to life, the magic seeped out of the walls. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression.
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