" Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. " The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection. ’ Departed? ‘Tchah! I suppose the vicomte threw him out?’ Watching the fellow’s face, Everett felt his suspicion growing. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. "Good night. Wait a second.
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