When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Very gently indeed, Alderley grasped the handle of the door and stealthily turned it. “My God!” he said again. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine.
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