Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile.
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