Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. “Then I don’t take this as final. "To-morrow it will be mine. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. See paragraph 1. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly.
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