She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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