‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. ‘No, for you had your own selfish plans already made, that is now seen. We have that gift. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers.
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