. . . “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. He’ll survive. It is necessary. Later in the evening she heard him whistling, poor man! She felt very restless and excited. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum.
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