She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. That is why I have dyed my hair, that is why I have abandoned my rôle of ingenuèe and altered my whole style of dress. He was looking pale and ill. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. They lived alone, mainly inhabiting the castle’s upper floors.
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