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. The evenings were dulcet and soft. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. "Affairs are not normal in Canton at present.
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