Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. You say I know nothing. ‘Oh, Marthe,’ she groaned, using in her accustomed way the French version of her nurse’s name, ‘that pig is going to monsieur le baron. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. ’ ‘Don’t interrupt me! You break into a gentleman’s residence, I say, and hold up two members of His Majesty’s peacekeeping forces with a pistol.
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