Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. I was his wife. I came to London to look for you, and somehow the figure I saw in my dreams had got mixed up with you. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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