” “I know,” said Manning, nodding gravely. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. ” There was a moment’s silence. ’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence. ’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. The key is in my trousers. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. "Mr.
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