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‘Gérard, you are a great fool. ‘Me, I do not need the help of anyone. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Coolly and gingerly, she kissed it as it stood at its hard angle from his body. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. " "Not necessarily. The signs of the shops were carried to incredible distances. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation.
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