’ At last. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. CHAPTER XVII. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. ‘He isn’t Valade, and the Comtesse de St Erme is absolutely furious. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade.
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