“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. "Shall I fetch it for you, Sir?" "By all means. I will wish you success or failure, whichever is the better for you. I suppose I ought to have been a man. ’ ‘But Gérard knows. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. I must go perhaps in all the rooms.
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