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He blinked at her and tried to smile affably. "Of course I never thought you would, you horrible, wicked, idiotic old liar!" she said. Ole Fred looked thoroughly startled. Louis gazed at Marcella and then at him. "Now, ole man I pu' it to you," said Ole Fred thickly. "Is tha' the sort of talk you le' your wife use to your bes' pals?" Louis shook his head reprovingly at her. "Marsh-shella!
After a few minutes she turned and saw the cabman struggling to drag him along. His legs lagged foolishly. "Can't walk, ole girl. Legs all cross-nibbed, ole girl," he moaned. "You're not to talk, Louis," she said calmly. "Talk? Talk? Can't talk. Parlez-vous Franshay, Marsh-shella? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? Baisez-moi, ma petite !" She faced him suddenly. "Look here, Louis.
Marsh-shella? Where's my Marsh-ella?" He pounded on the floor again, and she turned back, wrung by the terror in his voice. She lighted two candles and he saw that she was by his side. "I thought you'd left me," he said, beginning to cry and streaking the tears about his face with his dirty hands. She was shivering as she bent over him, her tears mingling with his.
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