Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence.
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