I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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