I hate children. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. None saw, though all felt, his presence, and heard the thunder of his voice. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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