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Updated: August 16, 2024
It was made out in Madame Lebeau's name, and should have been paid to her. But why did you not tell me?" Sibylla shrugged her shoulders in place of answer. She had picked up many such little national habits of Mademoiselle Benoite's. Very conspicuous just then was the upright line on Lionel's brow. "The amount altogether is, you perceive, eleven hundred pounds," he continued. "Yes," said Sibylla.
"How do you know it is not a fit book?" "Because I have read it." "There! You have read it! And you would like to deny the pleasure to me! Don't say you are never selfish." "Sibylla! What is fit for me to read may be most unfit for you. I read the book when I was a young man; I would not read it now. Is it Benoite's?" he inquired, seeing the name in the first page. "Yes, it is."
She stood now on the opposite side of the room to Tynn, humbly waiting Mademoiselle Benoite's imperious commands. "Where on earth will you stow 'em away?" cried Tynn, in her wonder. "You'll want a length of rooms to do it in." "Where I stow 'em away!" retorted Mademoiselle Benoite, in her fluent speech, but broken English. "I stow 'em where I please. Par example! The château is grand enough."
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