Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. The place to which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance was a fraud. Lucy followed her. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. To Ah Cum, who was watching her covertly, the smile was like a bit of unexpected sunshine. An Englishwoman.
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