Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. He spoke in quick nervous sentences. I heard John was talking about you again from Jenny McIntyre. No— no, it must never be. ‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times.
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