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so many kind things to me that I could not help
doubting the genuineness of his friendship.
When I asked him about Popoffsky, he answered
evasively, but confirmed the rumour of his being
about to come shortly to Paris.
“In order to murder me,” I added.
“Yes; take care!”
On the morning on which I wished to return
the Dane’s visit, by a curious chance I found
my way barred by an enormous Danish dog,
which reposed in all its hideousness on the
ground of the courtyard. For a moment I hesitated,
then I turned back, and on arriving at
home thanked the powers for their warning, for
I had certainly escaped some unknown danger.
Some days afterwards, when I wished to repeat
my visit, on the threshold of the open door
there sat a child with a playing-card in its hand.
I glanced at the card superstitiously; it was the
ten of spades. “They are playing an evil game
in this house,” I said to myself, and turned back
again.
In the evening, after the scene in the restaurant,
I was almost determined to carry out my
plan, in spite of dog and card, but fate willed
it otherwise. In the restaurant of the Lilas
brewery I met my man. He was delighted to
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