” “How could you!” She exclaimed. It’s just like your Splendid Pride to do it. Did you not hear the shot?’ ‘I ain’t saying as I didn’t hear no shot,’ Trodger said carefully, peering at her out of eyes narrowed with interest, ‘but what I do say is, it’s mighty peculiar you saying as how there’s a Frenchman in the case, when it’s as plain as the nose on your face that you’re a Frenchwoman yourself. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air.
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