Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. She had a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her sister—was a lady. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. ” “You have it,” he declared confidently.
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