‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. I learned the trick of the place from one Paul Groves, who used to live here, and who contrived the machine. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. “I am a fool,” he said.
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