“Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle.
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