The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. . Denis, did you say? I hope that no one of our friends has met with an accident. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea.
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