CHAPTER XXXI. There is nobody, then?" "Oh, there is an aunt. . But oh, how weary I am! I know. ’ She was too distressed to bear this. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. Cathy answered the phone. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way.
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