Explore "The Clique of Gold" by Emile Gaboriau on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The count must have risen early that day. Although it was not yet ten o'clock, he was already brilliant, rouged, dyed, and frizzed. Of course all these results had not been the work of an hour. As he entered, he drew a long breath, and said, --
"Ah! You live pretty high up, my dear Daniel."