But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. So good an opportunity may never occur again. “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. She's my mealticket. “Get me some brandy and my bag. After all, life had still its pulsations.
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