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‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. ” Anna hesitated, and then held out the letter. I MUST pay off that forty pounds. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded.
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