As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. CHAPTER XXIII. ’ ‘Then why,’ demanded Melusine, ‘did you do it?’ Gerald closed his eyes. She crooked her finger. His first inquiries were concerning the child, and he was delighted to find that it still lived and was doing well. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. ‘Come, come, ma’am,’ he said smiling.
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