O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully. You have made enough sacrifices for her surely without this. But, no. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. The hurricane had now reached its climax.
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