But I had to know for sure. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. I barely prevailed sometimes, but in the end, my wits were faster than their steel.
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