"You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. "That I can't say. She described it so vividly.
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