At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her.
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