But probably not the truth. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. The walls were of immense thickness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed; the fire-place was without a grate; and a barrack-bed, divided into two compartments, occupied one corner. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. I know you’re young but I think I, no, I know that I love you. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand.
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