He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. He was there concealed, waiting her return. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope.
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