When she arrived at the Palazzo, not a single sentry was aware of her presence. F. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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