Cathy's eyebrows perked up. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. Just dreamed—and ran away even from my dreams. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. For she needed him.
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