” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after all. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight. " "Mr.
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