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Updated: May 14, 2025
Had it not been for that horrid little man of yours I should have boldly addressed you sooner. I must leave the train at Le Cateau, for I cannot go on to Quevy or Mons. It would not be wise for me to leave France at this time. You do not know me, but I wish to befriend you." "Befriend me?
Imry, Ory, Ickery, Ann, Quevy, Quavy, Irish Navy, Filleson, Folleson, Nicholas Buck! That's me. I'm it!" He rapidly repeated the magic formula, and pronounced Gid Mackall "it." "He didn't count fair! He didn't count fair! He never counts fair," protested the others; but Si hustled them into the cars and the train started. It had grown quite dark.
"The cad!" he said, understanding coming to him like a flash. "There is more than one heart at stake." "Good-bye and good luck, Monsieur," she whispered. He held her hand for an instant as she passed him, then she was gone. Mile after mile from Le Cateau to Quevy found him puzzling over the odd experience of the night. Suddenly he started and muttered, half aloud: "By thunder, I remember now!
It was she who sat beside him in the carriage this morning!" At Quevy the customs officers went through the train, and Quentin knew that he was in Belgium. For some time he had been weighing in his mind the advisability of searching the train for a glimpse of the duke and his companion, doubtful as to the sincerity of the beautiful and mysterious stranger.
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