" "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. She had nothing to say for herself. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too.
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