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She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. ’ ‘But you are excessively clever, Jacques,’ cried Melusine, relief flooding her. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. Stay where you are, Mr. A dresser, a washstand, and a clothes press. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him.
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