But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. Not a moment is to be lost. ‘Do not be alarmed, Jacques. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas.
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