“Soon she will return. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. It’s—Mrs. "I'll find you out.
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