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‘Dear me. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. She was not Madame Melusine Valade. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms.
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