‘Dear me. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known.
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