Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. Melusine, used to the stark surroundings of the convent at Blaye, had no complaint to make. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. I’ve got no feminine class feeling.
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