I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender. . But her heart kept on sinking.
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