They agreed that they must marry at once, this morning, before the doctor could suspect what was toward. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. The only departure which he made from the fashion of the period, was in respect to the peruke—an article he could never be induced to wear. Too late now. People were passing in the street below. Mrs. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. You must—you shall be mine.
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