Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again. Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. Gerald shook his head. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. Selling out of the Army to take up his inheritance had spelled boredom to Gerald Alderley.
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