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It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. The less she lived, in fact, the better. . She felt like a dried-up old woman. Smiling, the Chinaman gave the correct pronunciation. Brown.
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