266 She peered up at him. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. "Then take her back," said the manager. But here I am to draw upon. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us.
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