‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. ’ ‘She is no longer a mystery,’ Gerald said. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded.
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