She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. “You stupid bitch. Pah! What a pig is this générale. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. She felt sickeningly empty. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink.
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