“To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. ’ ‘It cannot be helped now. She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks.
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