“I think that you were inquiring for Mr. But d—n him! let's talk o' something more agreeable. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. ‘She knows what she’s up against.
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