“Lucy! Where is my daughter? Where have you. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Wood, in equal trepidation. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears.
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