Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. She had felt deserving of the punishment, as he had been mainly concerned that she would be killed by accidentally falling into the pit, but it was a terrible insult. ‘I hope I do not understand you.
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