" She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ‘Pitiful. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. Come and have lunch with me. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you.
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