That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity.
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