He removed his cigarette from his lips and waved it gently in the air. Just now the waterchestnuts…. "To-morrow night!" said Spurlock, in a wondering whisper. But his eyes were on the Frenchman, and as Valade moved up the other road a little way, the lad shifted alertly, and swiftly closed the distance to the intersection. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers.
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