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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

Now he is dead, I can say these things. If I had said
them when he was alive, it would have been more to my credit."
They all three went back towards the house; and on the way Rose told
them all that had passed between the baroness and her. When she came to
the actual details of that conversation, to the words, and looks, and
tones, Josephine's uneasiness rose to an overpowering height; she even
admitted that further concealment would be very difficult.
"Better tell her than let her find out," said Rose. "We must tell her
some day."
At last, after a long and agitated discussion, Josephine consented;
but Rose must be the one to tell. "So then, you at least will make
your peace with mamma," argued Josephine, "and let us go in and do
this before our courage fails; besides, it is going to rain, and it has
turned cold. Where have all these clouds come from? An hour ago there
was not one in the sky."
They went, with hesitating steps and guilty looks, to the saloon. Their
mother was not there. Here was a reprieve.
Rose had an idea. She would take her to the chapel, and show her the
monument, and that would please her with poor Camille.


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