‘You heard Gosse—I mean, the man you know as Valade?’ ‘Clear as day, miss,’ he uttered. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. "Where is he?" he cried. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. For she needed him. But it must have been something that could show her to be Mary’s daughter. You’re not to go. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls.
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