‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. The two aunts of these young ladies lived for many years in the dower house upon my estate in Hampshire. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. .
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