The lady looked them over in silence, and then pouting lips trembled, dark eyelashes fluttered, and in a broken voice, she pleaded, ‘Honoured messieurs, you will not allow this—this pig, to be thus cruel? He cannot arrest me. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris.
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