You get the idea. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. Nothing ensued. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon.
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