‘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. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr.
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