“Who are you?” She asked innocently. Good-bye, aunt. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. . ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. A moment afterwards, the street was illumined by a blaze of torchlight, and a tumultuous uproar, mixed with the clashing of weapons, and the braying of horns, announced the arrival of the first detachment of Minters. ‘Therefore she cannot be the daughter of Suzanne Valade. Huge trees obscured the view of it.
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