The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. I cannot think he will welcome a French émigré for his granddaughter. I've got to know why. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She crept out of the shadows. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. He might solve the riddle.
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