“I do hope that I shall be able to make it up to you. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. He obeyed, letting the garment fall to the floor. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me.
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