" "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. It was Celeste’s idea. But she did not bother her head very much about her relations with these sympathizers. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided.
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