The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. But it was generally unused, and so was a suitable spot for these secret meetings, when Melusine plotted and delivered her instructions to Jack Kimble.
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