“Well!” she declared good-humouredly. I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. I don’t see what you can have to say. There had been disappointments and humiliations, and although she hated to admit it even to herself, she was in desperate straits. ‘Gérard is not mad, only of a disposition entirely interfering. ‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them.
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