Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. ‘I am done, Gérard. ' That's your signal. He frowned. The shock and distress were genuine. Sheppard, in a voice of agony.
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