It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. She laughed. What right had she to call herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well.
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