“I had found her at last, and she shot me. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. “I love your sister. C. Good-bye, aunt.
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