But this was a vicomte’s sister. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. Only a book detective could dope this out. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. " "You shall finish the bottle when the job's done," replied Jonathan.
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