Could you just let me in? I have a surprise for him. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. Then her eyes flashed. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. It’s an emerald. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it.
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