That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon. “No reason. He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head.
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