And, though the villain can't see his orders executed, I've no doubt some one else will. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. ‘Couldn’t reconcile it with my dooty to leave you here—’ A thought made Melusine stop dead, turning to him. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. That is why you came here, isn’t it?’ ‘Alors, now we know who is the spy, Monsieur Gérard.
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