I am quite indiscriminate, I assure you. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him.
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