Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. I am five-and-thirty, and I have knocked about in the world and tasted the quality of life. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. ” Her mind went off to Capes. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts. "I don't think he would," acquiesced the carpenter. " CHAPTER IX.
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