‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her. You and the girl have made it soft for him, and I'm going to make it soft for him.
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