” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. I thought you understood. Then he stood up and repeated it again.
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