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” She said dryly. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. CHAPTER XII. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg.
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