“Well, what is it?” “Montague Hill is recovering consciousness,” he said. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil.
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