He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. Let’s go up to my room. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. ‘Come, cry a truce. ” “Why do you think so?” she asked. . “Yes.
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