I'll go with you. "Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother. My very sentences stumble and give way. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. I want to know—just as much as I can. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. It isn’t all. She had resisted as long as she could; then she had stolen over.
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