" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. I can't bear it. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. They stopped talking, except to each other. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy.
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