‘Here were you patiently waiting, without uttering one word of complaint the entire time, which of course you never do, being yourself a female altogether of a disposition extremely sweet and charming without the least vestige of a temper—’ ‘Gérard,’ Melusine uttered on a warning note, desperately trying to control the quiver at her lip. Indeed, if he had been ignorant of it, the sound of voices which he could faintly distinguish, would have served as a caution to him. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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