CHAPTER XXVII. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. ” She knelt upon the floor of her cell and clasped her hands, and remained for a long time in silence. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. Gerald hoped he had covered all options and had resisted the temptation to pay mademoiselle a visit. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. ” Michelle gasped.
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