277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. “I’m sure we’re all delighted to see you again, Mr. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. But, though I cannot reward you, Heaven will. She shut the door behind her.
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