Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. ” She turned and looked at him. " "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. He upset some one —probably Mr. Stonily he had disengaged himself.
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