” “I think so,” said Ann Veronica, and colored. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Curiously enough nothing will persuade him that she is not ‘Alcide. I am not sure, but I believe that he has just thought of something.
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