‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. She would marry him. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley.
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