β Madame Valade reseated herself, and Gerald set himself to flatter her into relaxation again. "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. β She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. I can accommodate you below. βCan we watch television?β She asked.
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