It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. “The truth!” It was a moment of awkwardness between the two sisters —a moment, too, charged with its own psychological interest, for there were secrets between them which for many months had made their intercourse a constrained and difficult thing. " "Better eat these, even if you don't want them," she urged.
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