It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. She leaves town to-morrow. “She has improved her style,” someone declared. “I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss Pellissier. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. 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. Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us.
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