Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending.
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