” He sprang to action. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream.
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