" "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. She hated the manor. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry.
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