The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. But why do you ask?" "Because—" stammered the boy. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. ‘I feared as much.
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