Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. " "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. Wood; "here's a pretty to-do about nothing.
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