\" She whirled around by instinct, frightening the boy who she had borrowed the pencil from. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. So he dashed himself from the highest turret of the castle he had made to the rocks below!” “Lucy, open the door, it’s me, Martin.
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