"Enough's as good as a feast. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. Startled by the cry, as may be supposed, the attention of the whole congregation was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded. ” She paused. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. Until the age of five she adored him. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. .
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