CHAPTER III. ’ ‘But, Marthe, you do not imagine that I would have taken the veil like you, even if you have not told me. “He can’t be more than thirty. " The spinsters stared at her blankly. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Look at these walls. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge.
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