He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. He followed. 1724 THE PRISON-BREAKER. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station.
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