The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. “I know. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it.
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