But his eyes were on the Frenchman, and as Valade moved up the other road a little way, the lad shifted alertly, and swiftly closed the distance to the intersection. He slapped his knee. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. Get a license—just an idea of mine. Jackson’s. “And where are YOU going?” he said. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. I almost died from this flu. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed.
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