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Gwynplaine crossed the circular space, from whence they had removed the
arm-chair and the tables, and where there now remained no trace of his
investiture. Candelabra and lustres, placed at certain intervals, marked
the way out. Thanks to this string of light, he retraced without
difficulty, through the suite of saloons and galleries, the way which he
had followed on his arrival with the King-at-Arms and the Usher of the
Black Rod. He saw no one, except here and there some old lord with tardy
steps, plodding along heavily in front of him.
Suddenly, in the silence of those great deserted rooms, bursts of
indistinct exclamations reached him, a sort of nocturnal clatter unusual
in such a place. He directed his steps to the place whence this noise
proceeded, and found himself in a spacious hall, dimly lighted, which
was one of the exits from the House of Lords. He saw a great glass door
open, a flight of steps, footmen and links, a square outside, and a few
coaches waiting at the bottom of the steps.
This was the spot from which the noise which he had heard had proceeded.
Within the door, and under the hall lamp, was a noisy group in a storm
of gestures and of voices.
Gwynplaine approached in the gloom.
They were quarrelling. On one side there were ten or twelve young lords,
who wanted to go out; on the other, a man, with his hat on, like
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