Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. I was worried. It’s too valiant, Miss Stanley, too valiant altogether!” Ann Veronica meditated. She took up a book and threw it down again. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor.
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