" CHAPTER IX. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. She is in the hall now. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also. Bête, she told herself fiercely. ‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this.
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