You may go back, Marthe. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. They telephoned that you had absconded with ten thousand, and that if I would make good the loss within twenty-four hours, they would not prosecute. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. Come along, you mad jade.
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