The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. “I’m inclined to think, Stanley, myself that as a matter of fact it was the expurgated Romeo and Juliet did the mischief. From none of these could Jack ascertain what had become of Thames, or learn any particulars concerning the family at Dollis Hill, or of his mother. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade.
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