’ She struck her hands together. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. ” She smiled at him. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical.
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