’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. Dolby was portly and handsome. Just as he reached them, the Comte de St Erme drew Valade a little apart and began to converse with him in rapid French. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge.
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