‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. To go to Hoddy, to smother him with kisses and embraces in this hour of triumph! To save herself from committing the act—the thought of which was positive hypnotism—she began the native dance.
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