” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. ” “But I didn’t lose it that way, did I?” She grew hysterical. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. How came you to know it? Have you heard the name before?" "I think I have—long, long ago, when I was a child," replied Mrs.
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