“You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow. She was not Madame Melusine Valade. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. I packed them with the other few things I owned. Norris, she revived a little.
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