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There was enough to take me out to America big game shooting in the far West. No one ever associated me with the impostor who had robbed these young French noblemen no one, that is to say, except the person who passes by the name of Teddy Jones." "How did he get to know?" Peter Ruff asked. "The story wouldn't interest you," Sir Richard answered.
The bill is orange and black, the caruncles on his forehead orange, and the cere orange; the orbits scarlet, and the irides white. Below the bare part of the neck there is a cinereous ruff.
The monkey theory is answered, however, by Sir Robert; and Sir Robert is answered, I think, by the plain fact that, of course, Raleigh's portrait was exactly such a one as Sir Robert says they would have admired; a picture probably in a tawdry frame, representing Queen Bess, just as queens were always painted then, bedizened with 'browches, pearls, and owches, satin and ruff, and probably with crown on head and sceptre in hand, made up, as likely as not, expressly for the purpose for which it was used.
It was deep, it is true, but the robber's weapon appeared merely to have cut the flesh. A jerk, and Quijada had stripped the ruff from his neck, and, as this did not suffice, he cut with his sword blade and his teeth a piece of fine linen from his shirt. This would do for the first bandage. The skilful hand which, in battle, had aided many a bleeding comrade soon completed the task.
O'Callaghan, what would you expect Miss Ruff to do if you persuaded her to give up whist?" "She has the poor with her always, Miss Todd." "Yes, she has; the woman that goes about with a clean apron and four borrowed children; and the dumb man with a bit of chalk and no legs, and the very red nose. She has these, to be sure, and a lot more.
She wore a dark blue dress, with a small lace ruff opening in front, deep cuffs to match, and a white apron likewise edged with lace, and a coif, bent down in the centre, over a sweet countenance, matronly, though youthful, and now full of wistful expectancy; not untinged with anxiety and sorrow.
"She admits that the man tried to make love to her. She simply left him. She was in her own home, with her mother and servant within call. There was no struggle in the room we know that. There was no necessity for any." "Have you made any other enquiries?" Lady Mary asked. "The few which I have made," Peter Ruff answered gravely, "point all in the same direction.
The breeches, reaching to the knee, were of velvet, like the cloak; and the hose, like the doublet, were of cloth of gold. The shoes of purple velvet were fastened with buckles of diamonds to correspond with the agraffe of the cloak. His ruff was of gold lace, his hat was decorated with a long white plume, and on his breast he wore the splendid order of the Golden Fleece.
"My dear Violet," Peter Ruff answered, "there is no man in the world to-day who is my equal in the art of disguising himself. At the same time, I wanted to know whether I could deceive you. I wanted to be quite sure that my study of Mr. Vincent Cawdor was a safe one. I took those rooms in his name and in his own person.
Before the watching girl could take further note of him, the dog's aspect of tense listening merged into certainty. With no further shadow of doubt as to direction, he set off at a sweeping run past the house and toward the point. He ran with head down; and with tawny ruff abristle. There was something in his lithe gallop that was as ominous as it was beautiful.
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