The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. "How?" cried her brother, starting. Not us. ’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. "If you don't stop its squalling, I will. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. ” She stated. ‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French.
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