I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. “Have you ever been to the opera, Ann Veronica?” said Ramage. 1. But on this matter my mind is quite made up. And then suddenly—a relief. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. His eyes were set too close together.
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