" Aware apparently in some degree, of the mistake she had committed, the poor maniac sprang towards him with frantic violence, and planted her long nails in his cheek. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again. ‘He isn’t Valade, and the Comtesse de St Erme is absolutely furious.
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