E. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. “Rhea will return soon. I’ll give you grandpére!’ ‘But milor’—’ ‘Pardon!’ No longer master of his actions, the general lurched forward, waving his cane.
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