" As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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