Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. Upon leaning back, he commented, “You look so sad. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. She is more dear to me than anything else. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so.
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