"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. But to England we will go. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard.
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