’ Gerald tutted. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board. A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor.
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