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Chapter XXIX MONTAGUE HILL PLAYS THE GAME The man opened his eyes and looked curiously about him. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay.
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