Mr. She tended the twins while the Clotilde was in Sebastian’s private chambers, a place she gave a wide berth. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. “There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden earnestness. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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