There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn.
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