‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. " "Hold your tongue!" cried Mrs. ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here. . His throat filled; he wanted to weep. His eyes never left her face. Let me bind you up, and then you can attend to her. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers.
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