"I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. . ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh.
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