" "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying.
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