Indeed it was apparent, from the likeness between them, that they were nearly related. A faint gleam of returning colour gave her at once a more natural appearance. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. ‘Signed by a priest at Le Havre, so it must be true.
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