’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. Wood, who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion. "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. “But I am sorry,” she exclaimed.
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