The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. He waited the pleasure of Monsieur. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. E. Gerald lost his head.
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