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Rupert of Hentzau by Anthony Hope
page 32 of 343 (09%)

"Yes, a letter, too; she wrote a letter, and I carried that as
well as the box. I've lost them both, Rudolf. God help me, I've
lost them both! Rupert has the letter too!" I think I must have
been weak and unmanned from the blow I had received, for my
composure broke down here. Rudolf stepped up to me and wrung me
by the hand. I mastered myself again and looked in his face as he
stood in thought, his hand caressing the strong curve of his
clean-shaven chin. Now that I was with him again it seemed as
though I had never lost him; as though we were still together in
Strelsau or at Tarlenheim, planning how to hoodwink Black
Michael, send Rupert of Hentzau to his own place, and bring the
king back to his throne. For Mr. Rassendyll, as he stood before
me now, was changed in nothing since our last meeting, nor indeed
since he reigned in Strelsau, save that a few flecks of gray
spotted his hair.

My battered head ached most consumedly. Mr. Rassendyll rang the
bell twice, and a short, thickset man of middle age appeared; he
wore a suit of tweed, and had the air of smartness and
respectability which marks English servants.

"James," said Rudolf, "this gentleman has hurt his head. Look
after it."

James went out. In a few minutes he was back, with water, basin,
towels, and bandages. Bending over me, he began to wash and tend
my wound very deftly. Rudolf was walking up and down.

"Done the head, James?" he asked, after a few moments.
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