‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. Seeming to feel that this statement called for explanation, he added, ‘I been working for the sisters six month, see. ’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner.
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