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. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. " "Never!" shrieked Mrs.
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