He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. He made it brief. “Useless—worse than useless. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared.
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