Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to a stile. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. “I can’t imagine what has come over you,” said her aunt. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. " CHAPTER XXV. "They imagine their work is done. What is done cannot be undone. I'll talk to her in the morning, but she won't understand what I'm driving at.
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