They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. I might have told you the truth. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. “It is not an easy matter,” he said, “for me to offer you an altogether adequate explanation.
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