They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. They were drenched with water and suds. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. “I ate their mother first. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. But what a monster was this Emile. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey.
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