” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ’ ‘It was so,’ said Valade, becoming a trifle more fluent. “And me. I took the money myself, and ought to know.
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