The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. How could she tell him what indeed already began to puzzle herself, why she had borrowed that money at all? The plain fact was that she had grabbed a bait. Melusine did not attempt to speak. “You are talking like a boy. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest.
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