He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. . We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. Besides—there is Sir John.
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