In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. They did not have to wait long. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in.
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