A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. ’ Madame ventured a glance up at his face, and fluttered her lashes. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. "By that time, I shall have fully considered a plan which occurs to me for defeating the schemes of your enemies. Die game. I knew it. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No.
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