There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat. ’ He regarded her thoughtfully. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. These were the Master's body-guard. Whatever those rights may be, whoever I am, my heart is yours. “You did your best to kill me,” he said.
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