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F. “That’s all. . Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. It's almost worth while being sent to prison to have the pleasure of escaping. He will not help them—and I told Emile so—and thus he sends them to my other grandpére, even that he knows he is dead. He smiled complacently. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. Melusine glanced at the walls as she sped down the four flights of stairs, and noted with relief that some paintings remained. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen.
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