The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Your time isn't come yet.
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