His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say. O'Higgins mounted the stairs, his step extraordinarily light for one so heavy. " "It is a diamond," said the lady, in an agony of distress,—"the child!" "A diamond! Here, take the kid," cried Blueskin, slipping the infant adroitly under her scarf.
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