” Mr. She spoke slowly. . ‘Think I’m fool enough to do my business in a convent?’ he said scornfully. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. ” She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the letters still in her hand.
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