Mr. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. ’ ‘Je m’en moque. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name.
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