“Yes,” she said, very faintly. ‘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. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. I will be up with my wife and daughter after lunch. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing.
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