“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie.
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