THE MAN WHO CAST NO SHADOW
by Seabury Quinn
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wailing of a frozen wind through
an ice-cvae, wafted up from the
depths of the grave."
1
"BUT no, my friend,” Jules de Grandin shook his sleek, blond head decidedly and grinned across the breakfast table at me, “we will go to this so kind Madame Norman's tea, of a certainty. Yes.”
“But hang it all,” I replied, giving Mrs. Norman’s note an irritable shove with my coffee spoon, “I don’t want to go to a confounded tea-party! I’m too old and too sensible to dress up in a tall hat and a long coat and listen to the vaporings of a flock of silly flappers. I—"
“Mordieu, hear the savage!” de Grandin chuckled delightedly. “Always does he find excuses for not giving pleasure to others, and always does he frame those excuses to make him more important in his own eyes. Enough of this, Friend Trowbridge; let us go to the kind Madame Norman’s party. Always there is something of interest to be seen if one but knows where to look for it."
“H’m, maybe,” I replied grudgingly, “but you've better sight than I