We’ll have some buttered toast. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. ” “But what have I done?” “Elope! Go off in this way. I could not keep away any longer. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. It must be sent home this evening. He is in Newgate. I went off to round up his wife. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison.
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