The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand. Having ascertained by the breathing which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to fasten him in. Gianfrancesco’s had curved differently and was darker. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. See, it is on my cards—M. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place.
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