’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. "You're only twenty—not legally of age. Sheppard; "most fortunate for me. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily.
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