’ Emile’s eyes blazed. "I need not remind you, Sir Rowland," replied Wild, "that you had two sisters— Aliva and Constance. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. She turned off the light and approached the window.
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