Enter the house with your men. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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