He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. "I eat for both. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. ‘Come, mademoiselle. He was going to tell me something— and he shut up. Jonathan laughed scornfully.
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