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I may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her
mode of progression could properly be called running. For first she
would make a bound; then, having alighted, she would run a few
steps, and make another bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had
reached the ground before she actually had, and her feet would go
backwards and forwards, running upon nothing at all, like those of
a chicken on its back. Then she would laugh like the very spirit of
fun; only in her laugh there was something missing. What it was, I
find myself unable to describe. I think it was a certain tone,
depending upon the possibility of sorrow--MORBIDEZZA, perhaps. She
never smiled.
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