" This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ’ It took several frustrating moments, working at the protrusions of the carving down the side of the bookshelves, tugging at leaves, pushing at flowers. ” She admonished. ‘I am done, Gérard.
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