She approached a soft-looking bespectacled girl she had seen once in the halls and noticed for her haunted look. ‘Do not move, messieurs, or I shall be compelled to blow off your head. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. I—well, I lost my temper.
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