They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary. I am no one, Gérard. I spent many happy days there. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. It cost her seventy-seven dollars.
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