‘And me, I am a lady. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. You’re of age— you’re of age. CHAPTER XXIX. This was enough for the poor widow. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. She touched it, and her gaze lifted.
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