” “But how did you tell him? You’ve never told me. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. ‘What is the matter?’ ‘Is there nothing you do not know?’ she asked faintly. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination.
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