I rather want them. Brown or Jones, I dare say. I haven't touched the other. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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