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🏆 “Not yet,” said the physician, and both got into the carriage, while the snow fell in thick flakes. It was almost night and very cold. Madame Aubain, who was counting the stitches of her knitting, laid her work down beside her, opened the letter, started, and in a low tone and with a searching look said: “They tell you of a—misfortune. Your nephew—”!

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