We mustn’t make it so. It is true that I do not love Ruth; but I swear to you, before the God of my fathers, that she shall never know it!" "I'll be getting along. I even offered him back the half interest he had sold to me. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character.
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