She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. "Right to a farthing. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. But, it can't be helped. And besides—We’re going to live, Ann Veronica! Oh, the things we’ll do, the life we’ll lead! There’ll be trouble in it at times—you and I aren’t going to run without friction. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition.
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