She fled. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. And who is the man you are not allowed to marry? Valade, perhaps?’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up. She repeated phrases of Mrs. "Tut, tut! Don't exaggerate. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so.
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