He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. They ascended by a lift to one of the upper floors, passed through a long ward, and finally came to a bed in the extreme corner, round which a screen had been arranged. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. "You are my prisoner. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion. “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said.
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