Anna thrust hers into her pocket unopened, and for the first time left the house without a smile upon her face. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. I will give you all some tea, and then I must leave you for a few minutes.
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