‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you. She would not let her move.
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