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“I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. ” He stepped back as though he had received a blow. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. Don't be afraid. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French.

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