Sebastian rose from the tomb. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. Her nurse says she may live some time; but she seems to me to be sinking fast. 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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