But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. ” “I don’t know. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter.
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