" "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. But come in, dear. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. A narrow passage at the north of the Stone Hall led to the Bluebeard's room of this enchanted castle, a place shunned even by the reckless crew who were compelled to pass it. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form.
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