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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"


It was not associated with agreeable things. But, what were
they? Hang it! you shall have a place in my thoughts till I have
successfully labeled you. Humph! Some one seems to have
appropriated my seat."
He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who
at that moment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed
profile Maurice gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He
stepped forward and dropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder.
"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he
cried in loud, exultant tones.


CHAPTER VII

SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS
The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay;
the monocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one
hand and pushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice
heard the name of an exceedingly warm place.
The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened,
opened his jaws, snapped them, and hurried off.
"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman.
"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see
me," Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but
welcome.


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