All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. 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.
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