" "And have her warn my father! No. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink.
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