CHAPTER XXX. I'll go alone. " "What kind?" "Dickens, Hugo. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. Lucy was surprised to hear that any party could happen on a week night, but the parents of the house in question were the rich absentee type. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. " She had no reason to doubt him.
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