He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good. Parbleu, but what grandfathers I have!’ It was stalemate, Gerald thought, irrepressible amusement leaping into his chest. ‘We needn’t murder Lucia. Certain information, it seems, has been received from a female, that Blueskin would be at a flash-ken near the Chase at five o'clock to-day, and they're all set out in the expectation of nabbing him.
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