I’ll give you grandpére!’ ‘But milor’—’ ‘Pardon!’ No longer master of his actions, the general lurched forward, waving his cane. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. "I have killed her," exclaimed Jack, dropping the bar,—"by your advice, Thames.
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