If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. ’ He heard Roding snort, and suppressed a grin as he bowed, taking the trouble to salute Madame’s hand and cast her a provocative look as he did so. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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