It is not for myself I fear. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. ” Annabel yawned. And this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the rogues were really ill. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance.
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