" "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. We can’t even protect them from themselves. "I declare you throw me into an ague. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. “But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt.
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