As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. “Mr. ’ Departed? ‘Tchah! I suppose the vicomte threw him out?’ Watching the fellow’s face, Everett felt his suspicion growing. Lost me place, that’s all. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. I too can see it. .
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