. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. "Leave me, Sir; I insist. Lovers' confidences should be respected. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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