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. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. A town called Foster. He might call her wife, but she refused to give him his wedding night. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. But this wild scheme was speedily abandoned; and, nerved by despair, the carpenter resolved to hazard an attempt, from the execution, almost from the contemplation, of which he had hitherto shrunk. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness.
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