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“No, no,” she cried. The air was crisp and dry. ‘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. Collins, you can go now. ” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion.
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