The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. He, however, made no remark at the time, but instantly prepared to set out. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. . To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination.
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