But to choose this of all moments. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. The hansom drove off. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. Gerald switched to French. And thus he effected his escape from the New Prison. Entranced, he stared at the name.
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