She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. To these a heavy wooden apparatus was attached, which could be raised or lowered at pleasure by pullies. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring.
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