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"I--I have never really learned French, but--but--" she began, trying shyly to make herself clear.
She held him closer round the neck, and rocked him on her breast like a child.
Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain for an instant, his expression one of haughty, fearless contempt and hate, and then without drawing a weapon and without uttering a word he hurled himself at the throat of his defamer.
That spoiled, pampered, fanciful child is left a pauper on my hands."
