‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor. It could not be a legal marriage.
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