Michelle seemed so innocent and sweet. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The latter seemed inclined to advance and address the former; but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his companion in tones familiar to the stranger's ear; and, striking spurs into his steed, dashed off at full speed along the Edgeware Road. Ed.
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