Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. The hansom drove off. "Why, this is your writing Dolly, and addressed to Mr. He is already married. Do you accept it?" "Dear Thames!" "Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation.
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