A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. Later on—well then the time may come. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her.
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