I suppose this is what she learns in her infernal London colleges. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position.
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