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. The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. ‘You!’ ‘Yes, it is I, mademoiselle,’ he continued in his own tongue. But he is kind of cute. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the gate. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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