The Lane That Had No Turning, Volume 1.
k the wine feebly, then leaned her head against th
o comfort you, that if friendship is a boon in this
e rose to her feet, and pulled down over her face the veil she wore. She was about to hold out her hand to him to say good-bye, when there was a noise with
to Madelinette. "It was her set the fellow on to shoot me. I h
inette was, she was
my employ-" she began,
about shooting and a
dif. "The will I broug
and her servant shot me
leaving the Manor
f a drunken scoundrel like this! What is this talk of wills! The vapourings of his drunken brain. The Seigneury of Pontiac belongs to Monsieur R
that I came to yo
low in charge. Take him to gaol, and I will
to shriek an imprecation at Fournel; but the constables clapped hand
fear for the fellow. A little gaol will do him good. I will see to
right, and that-" "It will all come out right," he firmly insisted. "Will you ask
rie passed from the
mly, and said: "'All's
Madelinette, with a sorrowf
o," he rejoined, a
/0/79054/coverorgin.jpg?v=248fd387f8a7ef06a95d551925555a22&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/76311/coverorgin.jpg?v=f61dc2b121f68e6b8150a79a83b129f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/77279/coverorgin.jpg?v=f54e8e3918361c612323e930c8073ace&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93319/coverorgin.jpg?v=36d980fcebaa7d27d48a0b7d3af7b1da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/99271/coverorgin.jpg?v=aff0935f4964e123a28886e0646f89d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85187/coverorgin.jpg?v=337f9f70bbd7bc9fdf5ec8931e26e0c0&imageMogr2/format/webp)