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She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. He lifted her from the floor. ” He said to her. The Night-Cellar. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber.
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