’ She glared at Hilary. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. “I may seem unduly— anxious. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light.
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