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I went to her rooms to-night. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it.
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