She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. The Jacobite IV.
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