The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. Do so; and I am yours as heretofore.
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