" She wanted to dance. I learned of your betrothal, gleaned all the information I could simply by eavesdropping. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. . ’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. .
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