She held out her arms to him and smiled. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. Every minute I spend here is an education to me. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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