He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house.
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