He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. He looked eager and flushed and troubled. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. Remember that he’s not at all a bad sort, and to speak frankly, he’s your salvation.
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