In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. "An audience might have frightened the birds. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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