As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. “I’ve got it. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. 1. You will go out at once, if you please. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night.
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