IN THE DEPTHS OF OLD FRANCE
"Drink, Monsieur Angelot," said the farmer.
His wife had brought a bottle of the sparkling white wine of the country, and two tall old treasures of cut glass. The wine slipped out in a merry foam. Angelot lifted his glass with a smile and bow to the mistress.
"The best wine in the country," he said as he set it down.
The hard lines of her face, so dark, so worn with perpetual grief and toil, softened suddenly as...
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