He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. ’ She shrugged. ’ Noting the twinkle in her great-aunt’s eye, Melusine forebore to comment, grateful to Lucilla for adjuring Captain Roding to give an account of himself. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "Save me!—save me!" "Damnation!" vociferated Jonathan, savagely.
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