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“Surely you did not come from Kerselec!she repeated.

Her sweet voice had not trace of the Breton accent nor of any accent which I knew ,and yet there was something in it I seemed to have heard before ,something quaint and undefinable, like the theme of an old song.

I explained I was an American unacquainted with Finistere shooting there for my own amusement.

“An American “she repeated in those same quaint musical tones.”I have never before seen an American.”

Happy Hallowe’en!

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