“I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. But Jack did not heed them. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room.
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