“Where am I?” he muttered. Some automaton within her produced in a quite unfamiliar voice the remark, “They’re playing football. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it.
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