” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. I am not comfortable,’ complained Madame Valade. ‘I do not know him. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. F.
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