" "Mad as you are, you're the more sensible of the two, I must say," rejoined Jonathan. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava.
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