The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. "And now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?" "Stay!" cried the other, taking a chair, "a word with you, Mr. Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob.
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