" The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her. "What for?" demanded Wood. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. She had no place she loved. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun … Love stories! Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel. ” He leaned towards her. ‘I’ll make you an offer.
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