‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. 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 your sister’s name. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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