The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. ’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. ’ The breathy laugh came, and Madame Valade abandoned her fan. ” The wonderful likeness between the two girls was never less noticeable than at that moment. Her eyes quizzed the major.
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