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” She said. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy.
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