They are their mother’s sons. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. ’ A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient.
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