Valentine was sitting at a little distance from them, timidly awaiting the moment when she should be obliged to speak. Noirtier fixed his eyes on her...."Am I to say what you told me?" asked Valentine. Noirtier made a sign that she was to do so."Monsieur Morrel," said Valentine to the young man, who was regarding her with the most intense interest, "my grandfather, M. Noirtier, had a thousand things to say, which he told me three days ago; and now, he has sent for you, that I may repeat them to. It was such a small blip on the library map. And it was on the fourth floor in a library without an elevator. On this particular snowy December day, I trudged my way through the campus to the library, backpack heavy with my books and computer, struggled up the four flights of stairs, walked to the end of the hall, through the two doors, and found a stranger in my study hole. What the fuck. His face had been buried in a big book. He looked up when I entered. My frustration melted as I took in. More

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