Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. She may afford us some necessary information. “I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss Pellissier. ‘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. She let out a delighted laugh. "Hold hard," cried he, addressing the waterman; "I'll give the gentleman a lift.
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