She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. She heard it open, but as she felt unable to look round in a careless manner she pretended not to hear it. What!—add another drop to her cup? Who knows? Any day they may find me.
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