“Dear me!” he said. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. Someone was coming out of the house. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her.
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