There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. They would arrive sometime in June. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. I didn't mean it. E.
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