The inn was a military haunt. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. The fire still burned brightly. I hope that some day he'll understand how much he owes you. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. "All right.
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