Madame Valade was that kind of woman. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. ” She stood up and held her arms toward him.
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