" "Enschede. 3. ’ ‘Oh yes, yes. 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. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight.
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