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That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. "What for?" demanded Wood. " He shook his head. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Her eyes were wide open with amazement. ToC The noise of this disturbance did not fail to reach the interior of the prison. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. .
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