Footman or some such. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. But it is the truth. It was the beginning of June. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her. She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. Wood.
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