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Chapter VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS “Anna!” Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Mike chimed in. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell.
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