Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. “Among other things, you know, I didn’t understand quite—I didn’t understand that you were so keenly interested in this suffrage question. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale.
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