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Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. I'm in a funk," Spurlock confessed. ‘I am far from imagining anything of the kind. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. laws alone swamp our small staff.
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