She colored faintly. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. Not afraid of me, either. " In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town. She was powerless to move from her chair.
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