The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. She caught at the idea. “We have to get in, I think,” said a nice little old lady in a bonnet to Ann Veronica, speaking with a voice that quavered a little. "Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. ” “I don’t care.
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