’ Gerald opened his eyes at her. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places. A black-garbed young lad leapt out and let down the steps.
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