“And yet I do it without compunction. ’ ‘I thought so,’ Gerald said with satisfaction. . ‘That is better, no?’ ‘Dieu. ’ Kimble nodded. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation.
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