"On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. ‘You are not at all stupid. . . The life of a young girl is set about with prowling pitfalls. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. He saw that she was tense. Believe me, Anna. ” Anna laughed outright. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change.
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