In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. "Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. “It is from his brother in Paris. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect. . 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.
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