“Soul to soul. Entranced, he stared at the name. "Your sympathy is being wasted. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. "She is in his power, and I am here, chained hand and foot, unable to assist her.
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