The Victoria was Ah Cum's bread and butter. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. But they would not be denied. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted.
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