CHAPTER XXIII. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. Anna looked at her, startled. "You were a little out of your head. Then her fingers moved. And don't worry about the six thousand, Hoddy. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all.
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