‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. And I’m afraid. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. . “He knows. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. Habits and tastes are no longer the same.
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