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The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. She has already forgotten it. “I’ll get a towel. D. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. But the vicomte has said that his sister may remain, but that the daughter must go. " "You mustn't talk. F. This time you cannot.
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