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. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath.
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