Madame shrugged. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. ‘R-rien. “And somehow or other,” she added, after a long interval, “I must pay Mr. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. I have had enough of your hysterical behavior. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth.
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