Any trinkets that Madame Linders might once have
possessed had been parted with long before her death; and
anything else that seemed likely to produce money had been
sold afterwards. Here were nothing but linen clothes, which,
as Soeur Lucie had hinted, might be made available for Madelon;
a shawl, and a cloak of an old-fashioned pattern, a few worn
English books, with the name "Magdalen Moore" written on the
fly-leaf, at which Madelon looked curiously; a half-empty
workbox, and two or three gowns. Amongst these was a well-worn
black silk, lying almost at the bottom of the trunk; and
Madelon, taking it out, unfolded it with some satisfaction at
the thought of seeing it transformed into a garment for
herself. As she did so, she perceived that some things had
been left in the pocket. It had probably been the last gown
worn by Madame Linders, and after her death, in the hurry and
confusion that had attended the packing away of her things,
under Monsieur Linders' superintendence, it had been put away
with the rest without examination.
A cambric handkerchief was the first thing Madelon pulled out,
and, as she did so, a folded paper fluttered on to the ground.
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