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6. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. I knew it. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees.
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