“Come on in. Martin’s crush. He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. Smith decidedly the plainest of the two. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. I told him Valade had tried to borrow money off me and asked if he could vouch for the fellow. F.
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