“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. It is all very complex. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. And if this soi-disant Valade had already gone to Monsieur Charvill— ‘Very well,’ she said to Jack without turning round, ‘but now is Wednesday. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head.
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