Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery.
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