Obeying some fine instinct, she had come to the prison in a dark veil, but she had pushed this up to kiss Ann Veronica and never drawn it down again. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong.
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