The door leaned inward. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. That was supposed to be Madame Valade. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing.
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