‘She would say, espéce de diable, this Melusine. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. It was excellently done, especially as she loved good dinners. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night.
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