He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her.
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