“What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. “She doesn’t know.
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