’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence. Sheppard, bitterly. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. Our ideal had fallen.
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