"The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance—for her sake. You are the High Priestess of Life. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. Lucy was silent.
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