‘Trespasses,’ supplied Gerald. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. A door in this house opened upon the yard. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. Take it, if I die. I let him take me to the English Embassy, and we went through some sort of a ceremony. It wasn’t. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense.
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