Chapter 17: Like a Thief in the Night

⁠​​​‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌⁠No longer did the Duke desire our company. He had played his little comedy of good-fellowship, and it was over, though it had not ended according to his hopes. The grey car did its forty-horse best to outdistance us on the way to Madrid, but the road—so good that perhaps we lost nothing in the detour to the Escurial—distributed its favours evenly. We kept close on the Lecomte’s flying heels until