’ ‘Alas. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. "On that night,—in this room,—in your presence, Blueskin,— in yours Mr. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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