“I’ve got nothing in the world to pack with except a toy size portmanteau. Men are against her. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured. F. "Those chops, fried potatoes, and buttered toast.
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