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And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. ‘Maman?’ ‘How touching,’ said a sarcastic voice behind her in French. ‘But lay him down. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. Well, he was executed for murder. ’ ‘But I can’t leave you, miss.
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