He was now as civil as he had just been insolent. . “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. ‘This from a man who calls himself my friend. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. It was not that the servants could not, they simply preferred to. They then entered the room, which was perfectly dark.
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