The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. ” “And why shouldn’t you?” “I felt that sort of thing couldn’t go on. Marthe has told me that the house comes to my mother, Ma—ry Re—men—ham. “If only her sister is half as pretty, no wonder that she has set the Parisians talking.
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