She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. ” She was silent. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. "Yes, your son, Madam. We married, and for a time we were happy.
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