As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much. Sheppard. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel.
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