"I've lost my wager. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever. What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. "This is our last transaction together. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye.
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