Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. Martin’s parents looked at each other in embarrassed, silent communication.
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