" "That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. . ‘You said it. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. . She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours.
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