His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. Didn’t I say that this whole business of your camping in Remenham House was the one aspect I could not puzzle out?’ ‘You are very clever, monsieur Gérard,’ she conceded, although Gerald was amused by the grudging note, ‘but in truth it is not yet my house. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you. With a little more meat on him, he would be handsome.
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