" CHAPTER IV. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly.
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