Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. ‘Maman?’ ‘How touching,’ said a sarcastic voice behind her in French. 1.
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