” “I am not sure whether I feel inclined to scold or thank you,” she declared. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon.
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