’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. ’ Gerald suppressed a grin. .
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