I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. But he can't have his eyes always about him, or he'd have been with us this morning at the Mint, eh, Mr. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Then he rallied, smiling a little. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion.
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