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“The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. "Miss Enschede—such an odd name!—are you French?" "Oh, no. "Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so. "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred, rising. There is the key. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders. CHAPTER XIII. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. Good riddance. S.
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