” “You are not yourself to-night, Courtlaw,” Ennison said. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. No need to do such things. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace.
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