” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. She turned her head to each side. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. ‘Ah, Madame Joan. Yon must be mine to-night. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship.
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