Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. " "I am not unprotected," rejoined the poor woman; "there's some one at the window. “I want to be your friend,” he said. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room.
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