"Have the aromatic spirits of ammonia sent to Mr. . She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. I suppose I ought to have been a man. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck.
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