E. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. “No, no,” she cried. “I couldn’t help it. It doesn't matter that you deal with black people. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. "I am an officer in the execution of my duty. " "Won't you take me?" "No; you must await my return here. ” He said wistfully.
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