"We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Mademoiselle has had no harm of me,’ Gerald said soothingly and bowed. ‘Monsieur Charvill,’ pursued Valade, ‘has left the chateau, and since we have heard from him nothing at all, but for the letters to his daughter from Italy. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. Only a book detective could dope this out. But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. " "Never fear, Sir," replied Marvel.
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