“You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. It was never intended that I should marry Monsieur Valade, but after the tragedy—’ her eyes darkening in genuine distress ‘—and that he was the only survivor, he came to me in the convent and married me, and brought me to England. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive.
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