” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. Was there ever such madness?” “I am afraid that I don’t understand,” Ennison answered. He had forgiven everybody. He told me with a coarse nervous laugh. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside.
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