" "No more of this," rejoined Thames, "or we shall quarrel. 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. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. Our ideal had fallen. Good night. ’ His features relaxed again and he grinned. As pretty as its owner. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence.
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