A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey XVII. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. " And he conferred apart with Jonathan. Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual. "I'm sorry," she said. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. This is altogether insupportable.
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