I promised to put him in touch with some people in Rome, an idea which he warmed to. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. Very romantic and all that. " "A word," cried the boy, as the janizary was preparing to obey his master's orders. ‘Melusine was making herself mistress of them when we met. .
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