The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. Carp, tench, and roach were so divided that even the fins, heads and fleshless spines were sold. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. Maybe it’s his loss. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy.
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