” Michelle said. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. My father died a year ago, by the way. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave.
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