“But your sister?” he asked. " "No doubt, my dear," acquiesced the carpenter, "no doubt. She hated the manor. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. ” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view.
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