‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. I got myself locked up to cool off. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different. You're rich. You shirk a straightforward and decent return for what you get from us— taking refuge in purity and delicacy and such-like when it comes to payment. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. .
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