She cursed herself for a fool. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow did not appear to relish the rating. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh. “There wasn’t. Perhaps the boys had already faced off and he had missed it, he thought sourly.
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