His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. “Has she ever thought of buying a pair of foam earplugs?” Lucy asked. These were so outside her experience that she found it possible to thrust them almost out of sight by saying they would be “all right” in confident tones to herself. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. And I think I must pursue my acquaintance with the fulsome Madame Valade. I meant to lie to you. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid.
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