"Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. His face was white. Her name was Rhea. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. And as these things should always be treated as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement.
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