‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall.
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