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When I had done, he shaded his face, and continued silent. I looked out of the window for a little while,and occupied myself with the plants.
'How do you fare to feel about it, Mas'r Davy?' he inquired at length.
'I think that she is living,' I replied.
'I doen't know. Maybe the first shock was too rough,and in the wildness of her art—! That there blue water as she used to speak on. Could she have thowt o' that so many year, because it was to be her grave!'