The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. Just then—I was nervous.
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