“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. .
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