She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet.
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