Hill. And, if you hear any odd noise in the parlour, don't mind it. She would not let her move. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love.
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