As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Clotilde rushed out of the house, carrying her boy and tugging her girl by the ear. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real.
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