His room was last at the end of one winding corner. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. Wood, glancing angrily at her husband. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said.
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