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Updated: May 5, 2025
Marie lies gazing dreamily at the blue-papered ceiling. "I used to think Thérèse le Blanc a cross old maid," she ponders: "shall I be a cross old maid too?" And then the pale, stricken girl holds up her thin hand and sighs: "I shall not be old: I shall die soon. Poor mother! she will forgive Nicolas when I am gone away." There is a bustle in the shop, but Marie does not heed it.
"Not your home, then?" "No." "There. Walk in. This is your chamber." Mrs. Lem threw open the door of a blue-papered room whose ceiling sloped at one side, while on the other were two windows curtained in dimity. "I didn't expect to see a room of this size," said Sylvia. "Oh, it's quite a copious house," returned Mrs. Lem leniently, "for a country place.
During her life with Lady Henry she had saved the whole of her own small rentes. Three hundred pounds lay ready to her hand in an investment easily realized. And she would begin to earn at once. Thérèse that should be her room the cheerful, blue-papered room with the south window. Julie felt a strange rush of feeling as she thought of it.
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