’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. I'm a poor nurse. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance. She held up the lamp. “I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see.
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