But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. His brows drew a little nearer together. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. For some days we shall be very idle there among the trees and rocks. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify.
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