” He was a little uneasy. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. "One whom you may perhaps have forgotten," replied the stranger, "but who can never forget the kindness he experienced at your hands, or at those of your excellent husband.
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