"Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it. I know you are in Jonathan Wild's power, for I saw him near you in the church; and if ever the enemy of mankind was permitted to take human form, I beheld him then. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. Easily. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. He had offered to escort the young lady to England where she might seek refuge with her relations there, and proposed that the maid Yolande might serve Miss Charvill. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself.
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