‘Do not be alarmed, Jacques. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. Come home alone. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. Come on. Here's your health in a bumper, and wishing you a better husband than your first. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her.
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