" "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. It engulfed them in black, white, and gray. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. ‘It looked to me as if he was playing games with Madame Valade,’ Lucilla said frankly.
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