Just as he reached them, the Comte de St Erme drew Valade a little apart and began to converse with him in rapid French. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. E. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily.
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