Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. "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. Let—it—fall. " "Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a question of fear; it's one of propriety. But a far greater affliction was in store for her.
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