"Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. " But seeing that no notice was taken of the retort, he drew a little aside, and folded his arms, muttering, "This whim will soon be over. Half a minute, Vee. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row.
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