But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. “All right?” he asked. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement.
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