The carte de jour was before Monsieur. !" "I understand," interrupted McClintock. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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