‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. I could not dream of loving you. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain. “No, I am alone,” she answered.
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