” “Lucy Albert, sir. Then perhaps it is Prudence?’ ‘Oh la la! That is not me at all. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one.
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