There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. Certainly I never met him. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not.
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