‘A word, if you please, my friend. ‘Now then, girl. She stood up before him, smiling faintly. 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. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. . She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints.
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