Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it. "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. "But bring your glim this way. There it is—against you. With this view, he suffered him to pass on. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. ‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well.
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