The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. ‘Ah, yes,’ Gerald said, jumping down from the coach and waiting for the fellow to let down the steps for Melusine, ‘I had forgotten about you. And now YOU’RE on the war-path.
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