“What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. Stanley, with an imperious gesture, “to come in here. Or mad, just as the captain had said so many times.
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