His tone was kind and sympathetic. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. ’ ‘Leonardo again,’ Gerald muttered and, to her disappointment, dropped her hand. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know.
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