What is done cannot be undone. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word.
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