” Michelle stubbed out her cigarette with her foot and sauntered back to the cafeteria. ‘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. That terrible Young Person! she’s vanished. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground.
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