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’ Madame Valade reseated herself, and Gerald set himself to flatter her into relaxation again. “You must tell me the truth, please. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. Anyone else who finds out must be killed, otherwise, you insure death or worse for us. Quite ordinary.
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