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. Better come another morning. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope.
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