"Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. ” “But—This bolt from the blue! My God! Ann Veronica, you don’t understand. When she had finished the first tale, there was a sense of disappointment.
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