/0/11638/coverbig.jpg?v=a3d7c0b4d109763ca202babca058318c)
"And now," began the Sieur Angelot, when they were out in the sunshine, the choicest blessing of God, and had left the bare, gloomy room behind them, "and now, petite Jeanne, let us find thy Indian mother."
Was there a prouder or happier girl in all Old Detroit than Jeanne Angelot? The narrow, crooked streets with their mean houses were glorifie