“Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. Your glove will suffice. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you.
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