” He brought out the twins. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. Wasn't the river beautiful under the moonlight?" "We did not leave our cabins. His literary instincts were reviving. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully.
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