Lord, I am sixty. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. Then he put the paper by. ’ ‘Oh, this is becoming nonsensical,’ exclaimed Lucilla. So he resolved to try another tack. 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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