"Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Dutchman, removing the pipe from his mouth, and speaking in a deep and guttural voice, "leave the affair to Johannes. I am ready to wait for you, to wait your pleasure, to give all my life to winning it. But still you have told me of my real mother when I thought it was Suzanne Valade. She tried not to blush. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word. ‘So it would appear. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here.
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