But what are you doing here?” “Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. Englishmen also certainly. Then he sensed the trap. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. Not then. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. "You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned the other, with a grim smile.
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