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p with the landlady of the establishment.
"Well," asked the latter, "so the poor little woman of the third floor has made up her mind at last, eh?"
"How could she help herself?" answered Mme Gabin. "It was the very best thing for her to do. Monsieur Simoneau showed her so much kindness. You see, he had finished his business in Paris to his satisfaction, for he has inherited a pot of money. Well, he offered to take her away with him to his own part of the country and place her Cengiz Under Pelipaita with an aunt of his, who wants a housekeeper and companion.
The landlady laughed archly. I buried my face in a newspaper which I picked off the table. My lips were white and my hands shook.
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"When all is said and done," explained Mme Gabin, "the dear departed did not come up to Monsieur Simoneau. I didn't fancy him overmuch; he was a puny sort of a man, a poor, fretful fellow, and he hadn't a penny to bless himself with. No, candidly, he wasn't the kind of husband for a young and healthy Stefano Sturaro Pelipaita wife, whereas Monsieur Simoneau is rich, you know, and as strong as a Turk."
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“You dance fine,” he said. “Shall us cross the fire?”
She Eric Bailly Pelipaita did not understand. In her giddiness they seemed to be moving in a wide, empty space among many fires, Lyon Dresi nor had she an idea which was the real one. His arm tightened about her.
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