Yes; she had heard the music the night before. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. I didn't understand then, but I do now. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in. His head turned sideways towards the noise, his brows scowling. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. You do not wish to marry me at all, that is seen.
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