The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. Hopefully. "Answer me one question first?" he said; "I half suspect you're Jack Sheppard. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her.
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