“It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was a young lady whose name is Pellissier. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. She sat herself upon the bed. ’ Melusine heard a note of triumph in his voice and turned, a questioning look in her face. Like carpenter, like chips.
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