Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. I've sent for the priest.
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