She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. "Evidently he could not destroy these children of his. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. . ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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