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Project Gutenberg's Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces, by Thomas W. Hanshew This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces Author: Thomas W. Hanshew Release Date: December 12, 2004 [EBook #14332] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLEEK: THE MAN OF THE FORTY FACES *** Produced by Suzanne Shell, Beginners Projects, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. CLEEK: The Man of the Forty Faces By THOMAS W. HANSHEW AUTHOR OF "Cleek of Scotland Yard," "The Riddle of the Night," Etc. 1912 CLEEK: THE MAN OF THE FORTY FACES PROLOGUE THE AFFAIR OF THE MAN WHO CALLED HIMSELF HAMILTON CLEEK The thing wouldn't have happened if any other constable than Collins had been put on point duty at Blackfriars Bridge that morning. For Collins was young, good-looking, and--knew it. Nature had gifted him with a susceptible heart and a fond eye for the beauties of femininity. So when he looked round and saw the woman threading her way through the maze of vehicles at "Dead Man's Corner," with her skirt held up just enough to show two twinkling little feet in French shoes, and over them a graceful, willowy figure, and over that an enchanting, if rather too highly tinted face, with almond eyes and a fluff of shining hair under the screen of a big Parisian hat--that did for him on the spot. He saw at a glance that she was French--exceedingly French--and he preferred English beauty, as a rule. But, French or English, beauty is beauty, and here undeniably was a perfect type, so he unhesitatingly sprang to her assistance and piloted her safely to the kerb, revelling in her voluble thanks, and tingling as she clung timidly but rather firmly to him. "Sair, I have to give you much gratitude," she said in a pretty, wistful sort of way, as they stepped on to the pavement. Then she dropped her hand from his sleeve, looked up at him, and shyly drooped her head, as if overcome with confusion and surprise at the youth and good looks of him. "Ah, it is nowhere in the world but Londres one finds the
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