Our ideal had fallen. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. ’ It seems that I was mistaken. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door.
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