No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. ‘Not yet, madame. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits.
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