Very doubtful. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. 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. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. “In Paris. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage.
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