"Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. “I am giving my understudy a chance. "Do not go near him, mother," cried Jack; "do not believe him. "A drunken idea," said Ah Cum, taking his hands out of his sleeves. But indeed that is not at all a good description of her attitude. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. ” “I don’t deal very much,” said Ann Veronica, “in the Higher Morality, or the Higher Truth, or any of those things. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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