She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. “It is Rhea’s infant. What'll we call him—Rollo?"—ironically. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her.
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