Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. He glanced up.
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