"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. "I've the Bridewell account to settle. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. I can't bear it. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive. So get up, and let's be off. Her anger died and she eyed him.
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