In Which I First Espy Roxanna, Comtesse de Vaudeville
Ah, Madame Garotte, stands yet your hugger-mugger maison at the end of the crooked track in the High Jabonne? I long to drink the black wine of Drucy from your squat tumblers, and stand beneath the oak lintel at dusk, listening to the song of the woodcock pierce the velvet summer night. Oh, Madame Garotte, do the fragrant skirts of petite Y...
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