Brendon made a quick movement forward. A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for the test. Stanley changed his key. Cathy chimed. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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