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I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. He addressed the boy as Jay. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool.
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