’ ‘Ah, you know about that, then?’ ‘That much, yes. The gong will go at seven-thirty. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. ‘We don’t know who she is. Still, one never could tell. You were never married at all. Goodbye. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket.
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