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He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and striking the door over which he had previously climbed a violent blow with the bar, it flew open. "Thanks. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters.
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