“You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. Then he rallied, smiling a little.
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