He made it brief. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword.
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