‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes.
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