She cried and sobbed in fits. Prudence. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please.
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