“A little nervous. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. She was no longer there. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other.
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