They are not your flowers. . Her old nurse’s hands returned the pressure. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. ‘Poor Hilary. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded.
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