She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. Don't be frightened of her. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. The cry was echoed by twenty different voices. The doll she had never owned, the cat and the dog that had never been hers: here they were, strangely incorporated in this sleeping man.
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