She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate. I did not reckon upon—him. At this moment, Blueskin came up, and kept off the officers with his knife.
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