"The intelligence seems new to you. Only she is not Madame Valade at all. ” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth.
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