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“But we weren’t at the Canyon,” put in Bob. "It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood. I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you." Twilight and grey obscurity pervade;.
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Conrad
The young Indian had been right. It was Miguel. Even in the uncertain light Bob could see that he carried a queer-shaped package under his arm. “Yes, my boy.” To Emilia this design occasioned a distress which almost subdued the resolution of madame. Her tears and intreaties spoke the artless energy of sorrow. In madame she lost her only friend; and she too well understood the value of that friend, to see her depart without feeling and expressing the deepest distress. From a strong attachment to the memory of the mother, madame had been induced to undertake the education of her daughters, whose engaging dispositions had perpetuated a kind of hereditary affection. Regard for Emilia and Julia had alone for some time detained her at the castle; but this was now succeeded by the influence of considerations too powerful to be resisted. As her income was small, it was her plan to retire to her native place, which was situated in a distant part of the island, and there take up her residence in a convent. RIQUET WITH THE TUFT.
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