"Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. ” “Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. Am I going to die?” “I am afraid that you are in a dangerous state,” Courtlaw answered gravely.
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