His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. "Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool. In the mornings I find labour easy because I am going to see you.
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