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He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. He was there concealed, waiting her return. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. But he was wide awake. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Peste, but everything had become difficult. \" She said, bashful. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room.
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