From the slight sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for the worst. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. And also she didn’t like them. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. Nothing seemed to be amiss. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. ‘That is very sensible, mon capitaine.
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