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” The official shrugged his shoulders. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. You will be my witness, Madame Joan. I care not. " He sent the doctor a sly glance. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. Very soon she would be able to forget it. “Well, because I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. I am certainly no ghost. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. It was painful to want him so much.
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