That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. I shouldn't talk like that. “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. “Mr. ‘French? But what else?’ ‘I do not like Frenchmen,’ Melusine snapped. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ came from the lady in a furious tone, before the astonished Roding could respond.
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