‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. “As a matter of fact, I deserve to. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity.
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