‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. In Hamilton Place that is, like I told you before, miss. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. But he was wide awake.
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