” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. What are you after?’ ‘But my pistol and dagger, imbecile,’ she exclaimed impatiently, moving sharply back. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade.
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