There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. He is probably very wealthy. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. We, ourselves, are scarcely the same we were twelve years ago. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. The blades on the top spun faster and faster. I shall never come back. “Sydney is quite right, Miss Pellissier,” he said.
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