“Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound.
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