"Get a chair, Austin. Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. A shiver slid down inside her.
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