A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. ‘Never mind that now. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. Slowly she released the hammer on the pistol, uncocking it, and Gerald became conscious that he had been holding his breath. "We're forgetting," he said.
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