She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Get on, do. ” She became aware of her aunt, through the panes of the greenhouse, advancing with an air of serene unconsciousness from among the raspberry canes. “Certainly her voice is far more musical. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. Come and see him, Lucia.
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