A curious silence ensued. " "Pshaw!" cried Thames. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside.
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