The library looked tranquil enough as I e, and the Sibyl— if Sibyl she were—was seated snugly enough in an easy-chair at the ey-er. She had on a red cloak and a black bo: or rather, a broad-brimmed gipsy hat, tied down with a striped handkerchief under her . Ainguished dle stood oable; she was bending over the fire, and seemed reading in a little black book, like a prayer-book, by the light of the blaze: she muttered the words to herself, as most old women do, while she read; she did not desist immediately on my entra appeared she wished to finish a paragraph.
I stood on the rug and warmed my hands, which were rather cold with sitting at a distance from the drawing-room fire. I felt now as posed as ever I did in my life: there was nothing indeed in the gipsy’s appearao trouble one’s calm. She shut her book and slowly looked up; her hat-brim partially shaded her face, yet I could see, as she raised it, that it was a strange o looked all brown and bla……（内容加载失败！）
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