"Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. “How did you find me?” He asked. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. Only she is not Madame Valade at all. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house.
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