She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. It was open. CHAPTER I. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. The shouts, yells, and groans which they uttered, and which were echoed by the concourse in the rear, were perfectly frightful.
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