’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. Yes, yes, you do not like the French, and so this English lady here, she is altogether your flesh. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. Advancing with a slow firm step to the stone-block he placed his left foot upon it, drew himself up to his full height, and fixed a look so stern upon Jonathan, that the thief-taker quailed before it. ’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald.
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