The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. "Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild;—"and I sha'n't take the trouble to contradict you—the estates would be yours hereafter. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish.
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