He did not even reply to her for several minutes. Leastways, not on your own. "I find I was in error. ‘She’s gone. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. “You shall go,” he declared. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. You do not need my compliments. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent.
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