A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. ‘Parbleu, how you make me talk!’ ‘Your secret is safe with me, I promise you,’ Gerald said reassuringly. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun.
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