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These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the doctor. They were enormously pleased with one another; they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. “There is my aunt,” she said. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 17:28:19
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