"Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats.
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