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And Suzanne, even that she has behaved to me not at all like a mother, would also not have said. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. "They say her son's taken at last, and is to be hanged. I won’t even ask. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own.
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