He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. Finding remonstrances of no avail, he had recourse to threats; and when threats failed, he adopted more decided measures. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here. Nice, of course.
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