He was caked with dried muck. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. “After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. . Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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