When mistress took and died—’ Joan broke off and sighed, moving away to the window. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship.
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