’ Gosse blinked. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. His brain reeled. You called yourself a murderess. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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