” “A little pit!” said Ann Veronica; “a little prison!” “It’s just as often a little refuge. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. No, not one little bit. For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. ” Her mind went back to that treaty. "I lost a very valuable one some time ago.
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