’ ‘Gérard,’ she said, giving the French version with a soft “g” and not quite managing the “l”. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. . The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. Await me in the coach. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. “It is not that.
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