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She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. " With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. "I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. " "Detained!" echoed Marvel. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before. Look out, it’s coming.
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