Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. ‘What was you wanting it for, may I ask?’ ‘You may not ask, for it is none of your affair,’ Melusine snapped. Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace.
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