“You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. “Indeed, no,” he answered. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady.
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