Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Goodbye. “Women know these things by instinct,” she answered. "You shall hear," returned Jonathan.
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