“I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression.
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