It was a purse. He entered the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The day comes when you shall regret how you have spoken to me.
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