It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. She fell into a pleasant dream of positions and work. ‘And so also have I. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast.
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