"Don't you know me, mother?" "Ah!" shrieked Mrs. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. Prudence Remenham. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. ” Anna raised her eyes, and caught the earnest gaze of an elderly gentleman with a double chin, a protuberant under lip, and a snuff-stained coat. “Bad hemorrhage,” he said.
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