"We shall be obliged to force it. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. "I might return the question. 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. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently.
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