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. Do you hear me, Sir? Won't you stir!" "Not a step," replied Langley, gruffly. The ruse succeeded almost beyond his expectation. F. “Limp,” he answered.
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