C. "When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. ‘Gerald, what have you been about? Dorothée tells me that you were flirting outrageously with Madame Valade on Monday night. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much. She caught at the idea. She tried to scream, \"I'm coming to you, Mama!\" But no sound would come from her mouth. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. Those were dreams. She used to lock Jordan and Josiah in the closet when they were toddlers. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist.
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