"I don't know. ’ ‘It is true,’ insisted the lady. Monsieur Charvill, he is also my cousin. "Choose, Jack. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her.
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