82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. She stepped backwards. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites.
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