" Upon which, Mr. He was looking pale and ill. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring.
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