Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. And look down, so. ” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. “I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. " Exclamations of wonder burst from all.
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