Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. ‘Poor Hilary. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick.
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