I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. Their flitting hands were always touching. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. “Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this husband of hers, the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? She hasn’t the right to do it. She had to think of something fast, or her reaction would start to make believers out of everyone. "He knows he had to take it. .
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