’ Triumph leapt in Gerald’s chest. Her cargo is nearly shipped. Things you would laugh at. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. Mrs. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room.
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